


Rot

by Subtle_Shenanigans



Series: As The Pendulum Swings, And The Grandfather Chimes [14]
Category: Original Work
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Alexthymia, Anxiety, Asperger's Syndrome, Depression, Emotional knowledge versus logical knowledge, Eyy it's midnight once more my friendos, Holding in emotions, Negetive thinking patterns, Second person POV, Self-censoring, Social Anxiety, even us optimistic people can have them, just eh, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 08:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15069380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Subtle_Shenanigans/pseuds/Subtle_Shenanigans
Summary: The interesting thing, about wood, is that it needs to remain dry - moisture can cause it to rot, and weaken.It seems the opposite applies to humans.





	Rot

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not saying this to brag - if anything, this is really unhealthy and don't do it if you can help it - but I cry less than seven times a year. Now, granted, I do have really dry eyes. But, I also haven't been allowing myself to cry.
> 
> I don't really remember how to let myself.
> 
> Crying is healthy and a perfectly good way to release pent-up emotion. If you feel like you need to, then do it - if someone tried to ridicule you or invalidate your feelings (not my issue in regards to why I don't), then absolute shame on them.

_Rot_

* * *

 

You don't know how to cry. Now anymore.

  You got so used to keeping it locked away - the timing was too inconvenient, you felt guilty enough as it is ( _because everything is your fault, emotionally you know this_ ), or you felt stupid stupid _stupid_ , you shouldn't be feeling so _much_.

   And inside you feel rot, creeping and spreading across your interior, clogging your throat with its cloying taste of waterlogged wood; the only time their is no hint of rot is when there's is nothing, or there is fear.

   The rot taints everything. You can mask it, and ignore it for a time, but like any problem uncared for, it builds up, and up, and up, until the wood collapses in on itself, the mighty grandfather clock falling with a muted thud.

    And even if you want to, you _can't_ ; you don't remember how to. You're so used to choking back tears, squeezing eyes shut tightly, holding a shuddering breath. You just. 

  You can't remember how let yourself to cry.

   While wood seasons as it dries, your own supports grow weak, until you collapse and can no longer hold back - and it still will never be enough for the torrent, gathered from years of ignoring it and avoiding it.

    You'll just have to get through it when it happens, you suppose.

**Author's Note:**

> No, I didn't - I thought it was going to happen today. But, eh. Too tired to cry I guess. Plus it gives me a bad headache.
> 
> I'm fine, by the way. I'm just having one of those days - the kind where they pop up for no reason, or at least one that you can't decipher.


End file.
